The Suicide Kid
by Evenly-Baked-Avatar
Summary: Because suicide was the poetry through which she moved on into another life. In which her method of death followed her, stayed with her. And that changed everything. She was the suicide kid, after all and she couldn't just leave that behind. Tsuna-Reincarnated OC Cover by me
1. The Suicide Kid

**The Suicide Kid**

 **Chapter 1:** The Suicide Kid (Prologue)

* * *

 **THE SUICIDE KID**

 **Charles Bukowski, 1920 - 1994**

 _I went to the worst of bars_

 _hoping to get_

 _killed._

 _but all I could do was to_

 _get drunk_

 _again._

 _worse, the bar patrons even_

 _ended up_

 _liking me._

 _there I was trying to get_

 _pushed over the dark_

 _edge_

 _and I ended up with_

 _free drinks_

 _while somewhere else_

 _some poor_

 _son-of-a-bitch was in a hospital_

 _bed,_

 _tubes sticking out all over_

 _him_

 _as he fought like hell_

 _to live._

 _nobody would help me_

 _die as_

 _the drinks kept_

 _coming,_

 _as the next day_

 _waited for me_

 _with its steel clamps,_

 _its stinking_

 _anonymity,_

 _its incogitant_

 _attitude._

 _death doesn't always_

 _come running_

 _when you call_

 _it,_

 _not even if you_

 _call it_

 _from a shining_

 _castle_

 _or from an ocean liner_

 _or from the best bar_

 _on earth (or the_

 _worst)._

 _such impertinence_

 _only makes the gods_

 _hesitate and_

 _delay._

 _ask me: I'm_

 _72._

* * *

Because she took her own life, they had given her a second chance. Because that was proper punishment, to not give death to the girl that wanted it, needed it. Killed herself for it.

And so the suicide kid became the kid who had the potential to live another life.

New.

Reborn.

A life in which they knew she would be forced to love, to care.

A life in which she deserved

family, friends, loved ones: people to live for.

After all, she deserved nothing less than the life she was born into.

Because she was one of those, a suicide kid, the suicide kid, and

well, does the name need to be explained?

* * *

Nana Sawada's child was born with sad eyes and remained that way. Tsunayoshi Sawada only cried when they was born and after that

silence.

Iemitsu would often try to play with his _precious_ baby boy, and would always fail, and the child would stare at him, sadly, knowingly, already having given up on their life before they could even walk.

It was sad.

But Nana was still happy.

"Oh, it's just how he is," Nana would say with a sweet smile and tilt of her head, and pick up her child and _smile, smile, smile_ at them, "isn't that right, Tsuna-kun?" And the baby would stare back _, sad, sad, sad._

Timoteo retained the same opinion as Iemitsu. The child had no will, it seemed, and he would stare at it, and they would stare back, _sad, sad, sad_.

And so, he never sealed their flames, because he felt no resolve in them. And at this time, it was true that they didn't have one. Because they never wanted to live in the first place.

Iemitsu was worried, but Nana was happy.

"Oh, he'll grow out of it," she would say, holding their child and nestling them lovingly, but the child would just stare with those sad brown eyes, and…. nothing. There was nothing in them.

But Iemitsu would laugh and nod and agree. For Nana. Because at least, she was happy.

And nothing would really happen until Iemitsu began working more, and spent less and less time with his family until it stopped completely.

And Nana would dress Tsunayoshi cutely and call them _"my darling baby boy"_ and Tsunayoshi would blink heavily and stare at their mother with those sad, sad, sad eyes.

And nothing.

Until Nana put her child to bed one night, and sighed. Sadly.

"Tsunayoshi," she said, caressing their face softly, frowning, no longer happy. No longer smiling for the sake of her child because what was the point if they never smiled back? Never did anything?

"Mama wants you to know that she loves you," Nana said, sad, sad, sad, "I love you so much, Tsunayoshi, and I want you to know that."

And then something changed.

A message got through, and those _sad, sad, sad_ eyes changed.

Because perhaps in her past life, the suicide kid wasn't loved, and maybe that's why she killed herself, and maybe that was why she was so _sad, sad, sad_ now.

But that was in a past life.

That was when she killed herself, when she was the suicide kid. And she still was, and yet, and yet

And yet the suicide kid left inside of Tsunayoshi Sawada, that _was_ Tsunayoshi Sawada began to cry, and then Tsunayoshi began to wail, and cry, and wail and cry,

because it was that moment they realized that there was at least one person in their life that loved them. That truly loved them.

And Tsunayoshi cried and wailed, and cried, and Nana cried too, because her child was finally reacting. Her child was finally living.

And she picked up her child and held them close to her and promised and promised and swore that she would never let them go.

Because Nana Sawada loved her child more than anything.

And Tsunayoshi knew this now.

* * *

Tsunayoshi Sawada was three years old when she told her mother that she was a girl.

"I'm a girl, Mom. I don't feel like a boy," she told her mother plainly, after scrunching her nose in distaste when one of her mother's friends had claimed that Tsunayoshi would grow in a _handsome young man_. And Nana Sawada blinked down at her child, and smiled:

"Okay! Would you like me to call you Tsuna-chan, then?"

And her daughter nodded in response.

* * *

Nana had made a habit of torturing her daughter by way of clothing.

"But Tsuna-chan, you look so cute in dresses!" And her daughter would puff her checks slightly, and draw her eyebrows together and _pout._ And Nana would giggle, because now she looked even more adorable. And she was reacting, and she rarely reacted to anything, and yet

with Nana, with her mother, she would react to her mother because she loved her. But she didn't love how her mother liked to dress her.

And so it wasn't surprising that as soon as Tsuna could dress herself, she would always wear pants and jackets, and clothes made for the male gender, but Tsuna didn't really care, because she didn't want to think about those things, and Nana didn't much care either, because even though Tsuna looked adorable in dresses, Nana firmly believed that her daughter would look cute in whatever she chose to wear, because it was her body and her choice, and the boys would certainly be pining after her no matter what.

"Or girls, of course," Nana added, smiling softly and nodding a bit. And Tsuna cheeks twinged pink and her head shot up to glare accusingly, embarrassingly up from across their small table.

" _Mom_." And Nana giggled, bringing a delicate hand to cover her mouth.

"I would support you either way, Tsuna-chan!" She assured her daughter happily, as her daughter grumbled and slumped further and muttered about how she _didn't even like anyone right now_ , much less think about which gender she preferred.

But Nana wasn't surprised when Tsuna came up to her a week later and confessed that she liked girls, because a mother always knows, and a mother is always supportive of their child.

And they were close. So close, so close, and Nana was happy, and Tsuna was a _little happy_ , but that would be using it rather loosely.

Tsuna was simply living for her mother. To make Nana happy. And that was fine for now.

Nana was proud of every little thing her daughter did.

 _Her little artist_ , she would say when given a bad test grade, seeing doodles all over the paper instead of the required work, and that made Tsuna feel weird, but in a good way, and so she kept doodling, and drawing, and grew up with a pen or pencil in her hand, doodling and drawing on every surface she could just to see Nana's proud face.

And eventually, she wasn't actually that bad, and as she grew she got better.

"I don't know," Tsuna replied to her mother one night, after being asked what she wanted to be when she grew up, her voice rather lethargic, her movements rather lethargic as she picked at her food, "Maybe a tattoo artist? A game designer?" And Tsuna nearly jumped as Nana clapped her hands.

"That's wonderful, Tsuna-chan!" Nana sang, tilting her head and resting it on her intertwined hands, _smiling, smiling, smiling_ , "my little artist!"

And Tsuna blinked at her mother and got that feeling again, and gave a soft smile, because it made her mother happy.

And so she kept working on her art instead of other school work, because that didn't really matter, that didn't make her mother happy, and so why bother trying at anything else?

And because she didn't try at anything else, even though _she had potential_ , her teachers told her, if she _actually_ _tried and applied herself_. But she didn't because Tsuna was a firm believer in not exerting herself.

She was a firm believer of not doing what she didn't want to do, and a firm believer in not telling others to do anything, and letting them do what they wanted and being themselves, because Tsuna was just accepting that way.

Even though not trying and being lazy meant failing grades and earned her the nickname of 'no-good-Tsuna', and it meant that she didn't care about her appearances and would get 'punished' for her messy, unkempt uniform,

it was worth it

seeing her mother click her tongue lightly at her scuffed up appearance and then sit her down and tend to her small wounds and then smile, and run a hand through her hair and say lightly,

"You should do better Tsuna-chan! But," she would also add, "Mama still loves you."

and her mother still loved her when she continued to lie and say that she was clumsy when she was getting beat up at school for being late, or being out of uniform, or just because she was 'no-good-Tsuna' (or _for worse, for worse, for worse_ ).

Her mother still loved her when her fashion outside of school became more punk and rebellious, and her mother still loved her when she shaved off half her hair and pierced her ears, and pierced her ears again, and again, because Tsuna was _just expressing herself_ and still _her little artist_ and _beautiful no matter what_.

Her mother still loved her despite her awful grades, and despite the fact that she didn't talk to anyone at school, and thus had no friends, and despite the frequent phone calls home because Tsuna skipped school often.

Her mother still loved her because Tsuna was her precious daughter.

And Tsunayoshi loved her back, because the suicide kid was finally loved for once.

And she would wake up each morning and drag herself out of bed, and go to her desk and write down on a fresh piece of paper her reasons to live, and every morning it would be the same:

Reasons to Live Today:

1\. Mom

And the suicide kid would live for her mother's sake and her sake alone.

What she didn't know, what she couldn't even fathom was that her list of reasons to live would grow tremendously,

and all thanks to a certain home tutor.

* * *

 _AN:_

 _So, like, I really shouldn't be doing this yet, but here I am._

 _Doing it._

 _Because I hate myself or something? Eh._

 _So, I put this poem first, because it's really the one that inspired me, and I just love Bukowski in general. There will be a poem each chapter, some of my favorites and then some written by me. I've had this idea swishing around for a while, and I just felt the need to write it, and so I did. This story is pretty important me too, so it felt good to write it down._

 _Let me know what you think!_

 _And if you like this, you should definitely check out my other story What Her Mother Told Her, because unlike Life as Cloud, it's serious like this one, and is written in the same prose-like style._

 _Thanks!_

 _-Evenly_

 _ **Edit:** So I've been thinking for a while that it was a huge fucking cop-out to change Tsuna into a cis female for this story, because why? Like there's no reason, if this Tsuna wants to be a girl, she's a girl, not matter what body she's born with. So yeah, transgirl-Tsuna. Her pronouns are she/her by the way. I kept them neutral in the beginning because she didn't really know yet then, and to kind of distinguish this Tsuna from the Suicide Kid, who was almost separate then until both came together to form the Tsuna that is the main character of the story now. _


	2. Suicide Kids

**The Suicide Kid**

 **Chapter 2:** Suicide Kids

* * *

 **SUICIDE KIDS**

 **-Emory Larson**

 _because we're the suicide kids, turning up drinks and throating them whole,_

 _and mouthing cigarettes like they were candy,_

 _the shitty, pasty kind, not the good shit, the good shit too good for us shits_

 _and fuck do we want to die_

 _and we will_

 _someday_

 _by something else, someone else_

 _if not by our own hand_

 _and we don't get drunk, mom_

 _promise no drugs, pops_

 _we're just living_

 _so we can die_

 _riveting_

 _so we can live another life_

 _because there's so many ways, so many ways_

 _that it's sad that it's so easy_

 _it's so easy and hard, god fucking hard_

 _to take your life_

 _but we're the suicide kids, and dammit, isn't that just what we do._

* * *

There was a baby in her house.

Not only a baby, a _home tutor hitman baby_.

Tsuna raised a single eyebrow, mouth still around the straw sticking from her milk carton. She stared down at the baby blankly. And he stared back.

"Ciaossu."

Tsuna blinked.

" _Mom_ ," she called, accusation in her tone as she continued to the kitchen, her original destination. Nana stuck her head out the doorway, and hummed in question. Tsuna stopped, and gestured once with her head down at the small figure who had followed her wordlessly.

"Oh, I see that you've met your new tutor!" Tsuna met her mother's brilliant smile with a stone face. "This interesting flyer was in the mail box," her mother explained happily ( _as always, as always_ ), "and so I decided that you needed some more help with your studies! And then Reborn decided to come early! Such a rigorous work ethic, right, Tsuna-chan?"

"Scam," Tsuna decided at once, adding a small nod. Her mother frowned, her face morphing into a disappointed pout. This, Reborn noticed, had an effect on Tsuna.

"Now, Tsuna-chan," her mother stated, crossing her arms, "you need to be nice to Reborn! He's our guest." Tsuna sighed once, looking down at Reborn one more time, then shrugging.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever."

"Now, take him upstairs and show him around," Nana said, shooing her daughter out of the room and up the stairs. The daughter in turn, huffed, but obeyed, with Reborn watching and noticing (as he always did, always).

"So," The baby stated, looking around her room, evaluating it, "You're Tsuna."

"Yep."

They blinked.

They stared.

And then Reborn kicked her in the gut, causing the girl to double over in pain. She let out a loud groan, and then rolled to her side. Reborn waited, but then realized that the girl was going to stay on the ground, curled up. Then, she spoke.

"What," she said, voice still blank, face blank, " _the fuck_ was that."

"My true line of work," Reborn stated, walking around to where he was standing in front of her, the girl now looking up at him as he stood dramatically above her, "is assassination." She blinked, and he was assembling a gun. A sniper rifle.

"My real job," he said with an unnerving smile, gun now fully assembled, "is to make you a mafia boss."

There was a beat of impressive silence.

"Yeah," Tsuna said, still on the floor, "no thanks?" Reborn frowned.

"You don't have a choice. I was assigned by a certain man to trai-"

"Look, I said no thanks," Tsuna huffed, interrupting the hitman. There was an eye twitch, and then the barrel of the gun was almost pressed into her forehead. She simply stared at it with dead eyes. "Look," she started again, not at all perturbed by the weapon pointed at her "I'm not about doing what I don't want to do, or telling people what to do. So, Mafia boss isn't exactly a good choice for me."

"Should I shoot now?" Reborn asked, as if musing to himself. Tsuna shrugged.

"Pull the trigger," she said simply. But there was a small nag in the back of her mind, and her mind flitted to her mother downstairs.

And he pulled the gun away.

 _Thank god, thank god, thank god_ , Tsuna thought. She didn't want to do that to her mother. She couldn't die, for Nana's sake. She had to live for her mother.

Reborn's stomach growled loudly.

"Later," he stated, walking out of the room, leaving the girl alone, lying on the floor and curled up.

Tsuna considered her new tutor carefully. Troublesome, she defined, but like all of her other problems, she decided to just ignore it. Eventually, he would just leave, right? She assured herself, deciding to skip dinner tonight and just stay in her room, curled up on the floor.

She would help with the dishes tomorrow.

* * *

Reborn proved to be hard to ignore, especially considering that he would follow Tsuna everywhere. And here he was, following her to school the next morning. And while Tsuna zoned out, per usual, as always, never caring about anything, Reborn took this time to evaluate his new student.

Iemitsu had been accurate in his report of his daughter, aside from the fact that Iemitsu referred to his daughter as his son (but _that_ was a discussion for another time). Blank. Void. An emotionless and sad human being. Although her appearance would state differently, Reborn found Tsunayoshi Sawada to be a rather lethargic person (despite the hair, despite the piercings). Blank face, black voice, blank eyes.

And then there was the way she looked at her mother. Nana Sawada.

There was a spark, a tiny light, when Tsuna talked to her mother, looked at her mother.

No resolve, her father had said; no resolve, the Ninth had told him.

But they were wrong.

Tsuna had a spark, a tiny spark, but there was still light. And that was enough for Reborn to work with.

"Well, I might as well do it now," Reborn decided, nodding a bit and then bringing out his gun. Tsuna stopped, barely glancing down at Reborn, once again seeing a gun pointed at her face.

There was a moment of doubt. He wouldn't shoot, she thought. But she was wrong, wrong, wrong.

"Die."

And he shot.

And as Tsuna fell back, blood sprouting from her forehead, she thought about her mother; a serene image of Nana in the kitchen, her favorite place in the house, the warmest place in the house. A cozy, yellowed, frayed light filtering through the curtains that still had little doodles from when Nana would set her daughter up on the counter as she washed dishes, where Tsuna had gotten bored and drawn on them, and Nana was so proud, _so proud_ of her little artist.

Tsuna saw her mother, pictured her so perfectly, and she felt pain. Longing. Regret. Because she knew how heartbroken Nana would be, because she knew how much her mother loved her. And Tsuna loved her back, loved everything about her, and she heard her mother humming and saw her mother happy, smiling lightly as she washed the dishes, leftover from last night. And then Tsuna came to a sudden realization.

 _She hadn't helped with the dishes last night._

There was a moment when Tsuna's limp body fell to the ground. And then that moment was shattered as Tsuna tore through her clothes, shooting upwards and standing in all her glory, only clothed in her mismatched bra and panties.

"REBORN! I'M GOING TO HELP MOM WASH THE DISHES!"

And then she ran off, back into the direction of the house, leaving Reborn in the dust, and passersbys bewildered and bashful. Reborn blinked.

"Huh," he said. "That's a first." And he shrugged and followed her trail, finding Tsuna in the kitchen of her house, washing all the dishes vigorously. Nana stood to the side, hands on the side of her face and cooing:

"Tsuna-chan is so eager to help!"

Tsuna was flinging water and soap all over the kitchen, nearly breaking the plates and cups she was washing vigorously.

"NOT ENOUGH! I NEED TO WASH MORE!" She demanded, throwing open the cabinets and throwing more plates, cups, and kitchen ware into the sink, washing them again and again and again.

And then, the five minutes were up, leaving Tsuna in a confused heap of soap bubbles and splashed water, having sunk to the floor in front of the sink. She blinked once, then looked around. Confused, and then almost ashamed.

"Sorry, Mom," she apologized, looking up at the ceiling, away from her mother, who was giggling. "I'll clean this up."

And it was at that moment, Reborn knew exactly how to motivate Tsunayoshi Sawada.

He had found his angle.

* * *

Tsuna had been grudgingly inclined to go along with Reborn's tutoring. The magic words?

"Wouldn't Mama be happy if you improved, Tsuna?"

And Tsuna was beginning to truly hate that squeaky voice of his. But this hatred just led to more smugness on her tutor's part, because he considered getting her to show any emotion at all was a victory on his part. But, he would find it much more amusing if she actually reacted to his tutoring (torture) methods, instead of just taking it all with a blank face.

But he had a feeling that he would never win every battle with her. She was stubborn in a strangely lethargic way.

But now was a good of time as any to test her.

Enter: Gokudera Hayato.

And yet, even a spit fire, dynamite slinging, angsty teen such as him proved to be unimpressive to Tsuna, who ignored him the entire day. Until his anger reached its boiling point and he confronted her. Which, she basically ignored as well.

"I refuse to accept it!" He defiantly told her, standing in her path, "I'm the one who's fit to be the tenth!"

She blinked slowly, then looked over at her tutor, watching idly and with a small smirk, sitting on a window sill nearby.

"Doe this mean I don't have to be the boss?"

"Nope," Reborn responded, "you've got to fight him for the title." Her shoulders slumped a bit, and her face changed slightly, somewhat making a pout.

"But I don't want to."

"Too bad," Reborn shrugged. Gokudera grumbled, bringing out two sticks of dynamite, furious that he was being ignored. Tsuna simply raised one eyebrow.

"You're a nuisance. Die right here!"

"Ah," Tsuna said simply, watching as he threw dynamite at her. Gokudera smirked, stepping back and watching his creation explode where the girl had been standing, only to frown, when he heard coughing. he narrowed his eyes, seeing her figure sitting on the ground, legs sprawled in front of her, her hair somehow more wild than before, and her appearance more ruffed up, even burnt looking in some areas. She coughed once more. And then spoke.

"Listen," she said with a bland voice, looking tired, looking bored, causing Gokudera's temper to flare even more, "I really don't want to die. Well, actually," she admitted with a serious face, "I really do. But I'm got my mom to live for. You feel?"

For a moment, he hesitated. Stalling with more sticks of dynamite already lit and ready to throw in his hands, he thought about her. A clear image appeared in his head. Of piano keys. Of long silver hair. Green eyes. Soft eyes and soft hands, placing his own small fingers on the large keys of the piano.

He blinked, and he was suddenly back in reality. In danger of his own weapons. He cursed loudly, damning his own stupidity, his own fault for falling into the words of his enemy, falling for their tricks.

What he didn't expect that enemy to tackle him and push him away from the dynamite he had dropped in shock. His cigarette fell out of his mouth as she tackled him (how did she get over here so fast, how did she notice so fast?), and she used her own body to shield him.

 _She used her own body to shield him._

They fell with a thud, and Gokudera felt warm. His arm, he realized, was on her back. There was blood. She shifted, and then rolled off of him, letting out a long pained groan.

Reborn retracted his gun. He hadn't needed to shoot her. Huh.

Gokudera stared up at the sky, replaying the scene in his head. He blinked and moved his head, almost angry, half confused, to question why she did that. And then in that moment, she flipped over him again, and he found himself staring at an angry, beautiful face, and a pair of livid, searing hot brown eyes staring down at him.

"Listen up, motherfucker," she seethed, grabbing his collar and pulling him up to her face, merely centimeters away, "I don't care what the fuck you do to me; hurt me, dammit, do anything but kill me, I don't give a single _fuck_ ," she spat, "but if you ever zone out like that again, and pull a dumbass stunt like that again?" She left the rest up to his own imagination. She let go, letting his head fall roughly back onto the ground.

"Respect your own damn life," she told still glaring down at him, "Don't just fucking throw it away like that." She spat on the ground next to him. She then pushed herself up, her hand moving to her back and clicking her tongue, seeing the blood.

Reborn was impressed, if only a bit. Proud that he hadn't needed to shoot her. Turns out, he had found out another interesting angle to play with.

"Isn't it a bit hypocritical?" He asked her, walking along the wall as Tsuna limped home, having left a bewildered Gokudera behind. "That you said you wanted to die, and then berating him for almost killing himself?"

She shrugged, then frowned, finding that the action caused her a bit of pain.

"I don't mind much," she told him casually, "but killing yourself? That's not the way to go…" she muttered, turning her head up to look at the sky.

"Everyone has something to live for," she told him, strangely wise for someone her age. As if this wasn't her first life (and it wasn't, it wasn't, and she felt that she knew this), "and it pisses me off when they think that they don't. No one should take their own life. Accident or not. I don't care."

But she did, Reborn knew.

And the next day she had discovered that Gokudera now cared as well. Perhaps a little too much for Tsuna's liking.

"I'll follow you to the ends of the earth, Tenth!" He said, kneeling on the ground, outside the gate of her home. Her eyes twitched once.

"Were… were you out here all night?"

"Forgive me, Tenth!" he continued, still groveling in front of her, "No one has respected my life like you did! You're far greater than I expected and I would be honored to serve you with my life!"

She looked over at Reborn. An accusation. He shrugged.

"The loser serves the winner. Family rule." Her eyes narrowed, if only slightly. She sighed.

"I can't just say no thanks to this, can I?" He smirked.

"Stupid Tsuna," Reborn berated, "that hasn't worked before, has it?" She shrugged, frowning again, being reminded of the bandages on her back.

"Worth a shot." She looked back at Gokudera, who was still groveling.

"Okay, asshole," she called, nudging him with her foot. He shot up, causing her to lean slightly back.

"Command me to do anything, Tenth!" He saluted her. She blinked, then moved her hand. He was surprised by the gentleness in which she moved his hand down and back to his side.

"Look," she said blandly, "cut the servant, or whatever crap that is your spouting. I don't want a subordinate…" she trailed off, and moved her head slightly, her eyes trailing back to the house and then to a certain window.

"But," she said after brief consideration, "I guess… mom would be happy if she thought I had a friend."

Gokudera's heart fluttered, looking at the girl in front of him, his boss.

A friend.

 _His_ friend.

Someone who cared if he died or not.

"Of course, Tenth!" He reached out, nearly startling the girl as he grasped her hands. "I'll be the best friend there is!"

Tsuna's lips moved awkwardly, and formed an unfamiliar showing of teeth.

"…. _great_ ," she said, through clenched teeth, smiling extremely awkwardly (Reborn made a note to work on that; a mafia boss cannot have an awkward smile like that).

Her first friend. Nana would be so happy.

And, she supposed, that would make her happy as well.

* * *

Yamamoto Takeshi had never taken too much notice of Sawada Tsunayoshi. She was a quite girl, after all, and kept completely to herself. She was picked on occasionally, but they seemed to grow bored of it eventually. She never reacted to anything. Nothing.

And she had never bothered him, and he had never bothered her, and so they never interacted. Simplicity at its finest.

He had noticed, like the rest of the class, that the new transfer student (Gokudera?) had become attached to her hip. Yamamoto didn't think much of it, and was actually glad that the girl seemed to find of friend (he ignored that Gokudera nearly worshiped her; it wasn't his problem. They both certainly shared the same taste in style, that's for sure).

However, it seemed that the girl and the baseball player had more in common that they thought.

They had both managed to make the two lowest scores on the test. Talent, really. And so the teacher had made the two stay after school and work on worksheets. And surprisingly enough, Yamamoto had no clue what to answer on any of the questions. And so his attention went to the rest of the room, and eventually that attention went to the only other occupant.

Yamamoto had sometimes noticed how Tsuna was almost always doodling. But, he thought, leaning over to see her drawing more clearly, he never knew that she was so good.

"Ah, cool!" He said, pushing himself up and leaning across the lone desk separating them, "is that me?"

She paused, her pencil ceasing it's movements. And then her head whipped to face him, and light blush dusting her cheeks. She had honestly forgotten that he was physically there, and simply focused on using him as a subject. There was only some many times she could draw the tree outside the window after all.

"I always see you drawing, but I didn't know you were so good!" Yamamoto complimented with a wide grin. She blinked, looked down at her drawing, and then back at him, surprised that he was actually observant and had noticed her. On multiple occasions, it seemed.

She opened her mouth once, and then shut it.

"Yeah," she then said awkwardly, not knowing how to take compliments (especially from people other than her mother), and then repeated, "yeah."

"How did you get so good?" he asked curiously, his hand moving to her paper, spinning it so that it was facing him. She let him do so, albeit a bit apprehensively. No one had ever really looked at her drawings (besides her mother, and now Reborn, who had taken to trying to push her out of the habit of doodling through violent means). No one had ever looked at them with such a smile, she realized as well.

"Practice?" She answered, after realizing he was waiting. "Yeah. Lots of practice."

"Really?" He laughed, "maybe I should practice more then? My average is dropping after all…" he trailed off, smile dropping as he muttered. His eyes dimmed.

"I mean," Tsuna said a bit awkwardly, fiddling with her pencil, "my mom always liked them, so… I guess I practiced for her. Maybe you could do the same…?" She trailed off, not knowing exactly what she was saying. She just knew that she wanted him to smile again. It didn't seem right, to have him not smiling.

"Your mom?" He asked, perking up a bit. She gave a small nod.

"Yeah," she said again, "I.. kind of draw for her," _live for her_ , she said to herself, "and so I just kept drawing, you know? For her."

Yamamoto quelled, looking back at the picture of himself, looking at other images of trees and flowers on the page. And then in the corner, scribbled out mostly, but still obviously the abandoned image of a woman. He thought of his dad momentarily, and then thought back to himself. The school. The team.

He smiled again, but Tsuna nearly winced. There was a sudden flare in her mind, and the sudden creep of a head ache starting. She frowned.

Something was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

"You know.." Yamamoto said, still looking at the images, "you're right. If I want to improve and help the team, I'll just keep practicing harder, right? Thanks, Tsuna!" She stiffened after he had clapped her on the shoulder, her head ache only increasing.

"You've inspired me, you know?"

"Glad to help," She said plainly, putting on an awkward smile (one she had been working on, per Reborn's orders).

But it felt like a lie.

And as the headache increased after they were released from the classroom (after being scolded, naturally, for not completing their work), this awful feeling only got worse.

Something bad was going to happen.

And something bad did, the next day.

"Yamamoto's going to jump off the roof!"

Tsuna stiffened in her seat, sitting straight up from where she had been laying her head down on the desk. It throbbed again, stronger than ever and she stood shakily, looking first to Gokudera's empty seat, and then looking around the mostly empty classroom, half expecting her tutor to pop up. But Gokudera had gone to stock his dynamite, and Reborn was likely to use this as a lesson ( _dammit, dammit, dammit_ ).

Her gut twisted and her throat went dry.

This was her fault.

She had heard that Yamamoto broke his arm by practicing too hard.

This was her fault. And so, she decided

she was going to fix it, because dammit it someone was going to kill themselves if she was around.

She was the suicide kid, after all. And she knew best, in this respect.

* * *

People came to watch, as if his death would be a show. And it might as well be, he thought. After all, what more was he to them than just an idol. The baseball star with the broken arm. He supposed it was his own fault. For not speaking, for not talking.

But _fuck_ , did he just want it all to end.

He shifted his hand, his one good hand, feeling the metal of the fence, now warmed from his skin pressed against it. He leaned out, looking down. It was dizzying. It was terrifying.

There was doubt, but not for long.

And then there was a voice.

"Yo." He blinked, and looked around, not seeing anyone close enough. A cough, and then it sounded again.

"Down here." He looked down, seeing Tsunayoshi Sawada leaning out the open window below him, staring up at him. She looked around, frowning and then stood on the ledge, turned, her back facing out.

And she began climbing up to him.

"Hey, wait!" He called, "You could fall!"

"Ha." It was a dry laugh. One syllable. She looked up at him with humorless eyes.

"Ironic," she said, "coming from you. Now help a bitch up, will you?" He hesitated, but was pushing into action, sitting on the ledge and reaching down with his good arm. After both scrambling a bit, and the girl nearly latching onto the baseball player, she was soon calmly sitting beside him.

She was so different from the other day, he noticed. Calm. Not caught off guard, like in the classroom. She almost seemed at peace when she was sitting on a high ledge, so close to death.

But he was different from yesterday too.

"You can't stop me, Tsuna," he told her, looking out instead of down. "The baseball god has already thrown me away. The team, the school, everyone… I failed them." She scoffed.

"Say that while looking at the ground," she accused, causing another spike of fear to run through him.

"I'm going to tell you something," she decided, "that I haven't told anyone else. Okay?" He shifted his hands again, this time, braced against the edge of the roof they were sitting on. God, were his palms sweaty. The couple sat alone, shut off from the spectators, who had grown silent. She spoke low enough so that only Yamamoto could hear her. Private. Secluded.

She took a sharp breath.

"I think I killed myself in a past life," she said suddenly, surprising him, "and fuck it if you think it's weird; but it's true. I never wanted to live in the first place. Never."

She turned to him suddenly, and he realized he had been mistaken early. She wasn't calm at all, but livid. Furious. Her eyes almost seemed orange, burning with pristine rage.

"If I've survived this long with wanting to kill myself my entire life, then I think that you can survive breaking one fucking bone," she sneered, face angry, metallic and stabbing. He winced at her words. She took a breath, calming herself.

"Sorry." And then she said it again. "Sorry. This is about you. Not me." Another breath.

"Let's start over," she decided, once again looking out. "My name is Tsunayoshi Sawada. And the only reason I'm alive is because of my mother."

He thought back to yesterday, how she had shared that she drew for her mother. Who did he play baseball for, he asked himself. The team? Himself? His father?

Who did he live for?

"Why are you alive, Yamamoto Takeshi?" Tsuna vocalized his thoughts. "Who do you live for?"

He didn't have to think for long, seeing a familiar figure, a familiar smile. The distinct smell of fish and copper.

"My dad," he nearly choked out, thinking of his old man. She nodded once, and he felt that she was no longer as angry; like she had succeeded in her mission.

"Then that's your answer; you live for them. For your old man. Fuck baseball, fuck the team, fuck what everyone thinks. As long as you have at least one person to live for, fuck everything you do. Only that person matters."

"And once you understand that," she said, her voice softer, as if she was trying to convince herself of this last part as well, "maybe, just maybe, you can start living for others. More people. And eventually? Yourself. God. I know that I want to live for myself."

There was a silence, pregnant with anticipation. And then Tsuna stood, stretching and then wiping the back of her skirt off.

"But," she said, looking down at him, and then holding out a hand, "I'm sure we'll get there eventually, right?"

 _We._

He wasn't sure if she meant to say that or not.

But he would be damned if he wasn't going to take her hand (her offering, her friendship, her _understanding_ ).

He laughed suddenly (a splendid sound), seeing her awkward smile again. Her expression dropped, and his smile widened, realizing that his new friend was pouting.

Well, she thought, letting Yamamoto reach for the fence first to get back over, at least her head ache gone now.

At least his smile wasn't a lie anymore.

But that smile disappeared immediately when Yamamoto pulled on the fence, only for it to break, causing him to fall back. Tsuna reached out, but only managed to get pushed back with him.

And they were falling off the roof.

There were screams and cries from the students, loud enough that the sounds of the two gunshots were overlooked.

 _I want to save him,_ Tsuna thought while falling, _I want us both to live_.

And the two bullets Reborn shot into Tsuna answered her will. Immediately, Tsuna clutched Yamamoto tightly, and then a long sprout of hair springing from her head , cushioning their fall and bouncing them and causing their fall to be non fatal.

They were safe, Tsuna realized, opening her eyes and seeing the sky. She squeezed her eyes shut, thinking of her mother,

and surprisingly, thinking of the boy beside her.

 _Alive._

She groaned loudly, and Yamamoto shifted. Both a little sore. But _alive, alive, alive_.

Yamamoto rolled over, and Tsuna shifted her head, looking over at him. A moment. And Tsuna began laughing first, Yamamoto following. The two laughed and laughed and perhaps, the two looked delirious, but they were both happy. Happy to be alive, happy to have their parents, and eventually they would realize that they were happy to have each other.

And they laughed and laughed and laughed, until they were even sorer from laughing than the fall they had just taken.

And so the suicide kid met another, and they became the suicide kids

and lived.

* * *

 _AN:_

 _So, yeah. A lot of things are going to stray from canon, and some will stay? Because this Tsuna is definitely not the same Tsuna, so things are bound to be different. An obvious one, is that this Tsuna does not have a crush on Kyoko, because she doesn't care about any one but her mother at the beginning. And that was a big motivator Reborn used, that he does not have in this story. Also, Reborn's treatment of Tsuna will differ in this, not because she's a girl (because I really don't think Reborn would really care about that), but because this Tsuna is definitely not as easy to provoke as the original one. Because canon!Tsuna was easy to agitate, and therefore, was much more amusing for Reborn. And then, Yamamoto and Tsuna will be closer in this as well, which is a relationship I find extremely important._

 _Also, this story will not be as detailed, and more of snippets of changes. At least that's what I'm planning._

 _I was going to do entire arcs by chapters, but I really liked where this ended. And I'm fine with the chapters being shorter. Eh. Also, I feel like these two relationships, or at least the start of them, deserved their own chapter. I'll probably finish the daily life arc next chapter honestly._

 ** _Review Responses:_**

 _ **Tigressa:** Thanks so much! I'm excited to write it. Thanks for the review!_

 _ **Guest:** Ha, the whole bittersweet thing kind of sets the mood for the entire story. Thanks so much for the review! _

_**Guest:** Glad you're excited and think that the chapter is amazing! Hoe you like this one too and thanks for the review!_

 _Thanks for all the reviews, follows, and favorites!_

 _-Evenly_


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